The Right Time To Die

The other day I went to attend a reception party. It was of a colleague’s son’s marriage. So many colleagues there hopping party to party–it was heavy ‘lagan’ that day. The conversation over vegetable soup (that colleague is strictly, genetically & genealogically VEGETARIAN) was going on. Other colleagues were religiously hovering around marriages and marriage parties.

One colleague was just leaving for another party. The reception party of another colleague’s son who got married the last day. The news from more update corner was broken to him that the said reception party was canceled as that colleague’s mother died that very morning. And do you know what the general reaction was? A great SIGH OF RELIEF came from all the corners. The dead lady was great. She did not die at the wrong time. Had she died the last day, the wedding itself would have been canceled.

SO FRIENDS, DON’T YOU THINK, ALL THE GOOD PARENTS SHOULD BE CAUTIOUS ABOUT THE RIGHT TIME TO DIE?

Just A Stray Thought

I just wondered in the morning while getting ready for office, I could so easily brush my teeth, in a single go squatted on the john (sorry, no European system), could call the domestic help in a clear voice, and could lift my little Sandalie so high to her heart’s delight. And not for a moment, the tormenting thought occurred that I lacked a house of my own in the town and my bank account was awfully thin.

I did not play a bossing wife or a husbanding boss who growl at two undone tasks and ignore eight completed ones, to my own pleasant self. The whole day I was in the office with a song on my lips, bubbling with full vitality. I saw that I had no complaint at the end of the day just because I was alive and all the organs in my body were working well. I shared my feelings with my friend PankajMitra, the writer on mobile. He jokingly said the right to information was introduced just to give vent to our complaining habit.

DO YOU AGREE WITH HIM?

Love Has Delicious Dimensions

The other day I shared good lunch with my colleagues. Every day I do that. I never carry a lunch-box. So why think of varieties? But their lunch and the very arrangement of it compel me to give a thought. Dishes nicely packed, regional flavors of Bhojpur and Mithila, fruits and sweets-sometimes homemade and often from the market. I wonder at the so meticulous care taken by their better-halves. Unlike me, they were prudent enough to marry quite early and have enjoyed more than two decades of conjugal life.

Of course, arranged marriages. Love is not just running after an elated beloved in the garden as Bollywood lovers are doing since 1935. Neither it is only SMS,net-chatting & e-mails as of late we do. Neither garden–to–a garden marathon of past nor high-tech practices of the present. It’s not that elementary, my dear Watson. Love has some ultra-romantic dimensions too. It has definitely some gastronomical features. I pity those half-fed amours. The kitchen has definitely its own command over the sustainability of love.

SO FRIENDS, WHICH DO YOU PREFER–A RED ROSE OR A WELL–BLOOMED CAULIFLOWER?

About Being Robbed

I got a call today. The other end was disturbed with the apprehension of my identity on Facebook being misutilized. He wanted me to hide certain personal details. He informed, how a Kolkata girl committed suicide as some thugs placed her cell number onFacebook in the wrong hands- in the call girls’ list. He believed in personal not making public. And the pale of ‘personal’ was too damn broad for him. He was frightened of being robbed. At this juncture I think, most of us are grabbed with some real or chimerical fear of being robbed, exploited, or cheated. The fortunate or unfortunate moment of being robbed so physically seldom comes in anyone’s life.

The unfortunate and shoddy instances of the internet that were reported to me do not occur in everyone’s life. Are we not turning penny wise and pound foolish? And on the other hand, we hardly think how we’re every moment being robbed intangibly, silently, and surreptitiously. The market is everywhere to buy us cheap and sell us dearly. Physically, emotionally, culturally and in all details and shades we’re being sold and why sold, robbed is the better expression. The international GROCER is fast to include even moon, till now the forte’ of lovers and poets, in his trading commodities’ list!

SO MY DEAR FRIENDS, WHICH WOULD YOU PREFER–SAVING YOURSELF FROM INTERNET PIRACY OR SAVING THE COMMUNITY FROM INTERNATIONAL PIRACY?

 Moments To Reflect

Yesterday I attended a colleague’s father’s funeral, did routine office work, posted a couple of photos to Facebook, recited my name in Doordarshan studio mushaira, played with my daughter Sandalie, watched TV programs & shared trivialities with my better-half. I just jumped from one activity to the other. From shockingly sad scenes to innocently light ones, from cold indifference to warm intimacy.

There was not a single moment to reflect. Like your thumb on the remote button& swift switch-over from channel to channel. FromSanskar to FTV, from Sports to HBO,from BBC to QTV.Aren’t we behaving like professional actors wearing one make-up and stripping another? Haven’t we lost our original face-the human one?

DON’T YOU THINK MY FRIENDS, WE SHOULD GIVE OURSELVES ENOUGH LEISURE TO REFLECT AND THE GAP BETWEEN TWO ACTS FOR STAYING HUMAN?
(writer :  sanjay kumar kundan)